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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27428134">if it's human</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/masonjars/pseuds/masonjars'>masonjars</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, Oral Sex, Pre-Game Oma Kokichi, Pre-Game Saihara Shuichi, Vague angst, pretending to be other danganronpa characters during intercourse</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 00:29:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,632</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27428134</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/masonjars/pseuds/masonjars</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"He wonders when he got this pathetic. He watches Shuichi slowly start jacking himself off again, his cheap wig looking shiny in the low light. The artificial hairs frizz and stick up in unruly spikes, a product of his attempt to style it. He wonders why his own cock is stirring in his jeans. He wonders why he keeps coming back when he knows it just leads to this."</p><p>Pre-game Oma and Shuichi fuckery.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>46</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>if it's human</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this has been sitting in my google docs for a year without an ending, so i decided to give it a garbage ending and post it. please enjoy anyway</p><p>apologizes for any grammar errors i overlooked, i got sick of staring at this after a certain point</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Komaeda throws his head back against the yellowing posters on the wall, one of them dangerously close to slipping loose from the piece of dusty tape holding it upright. His wig is tangled, a matted mess styled with cheap hair gel. The white shirt he has pulled up to show his dick, already hard against his stomach, is painted with red paint that’s starting to chip.</p><p>“Please, Hinata-kun,” he begs, his black pants undone with tell-tale stains and his hand stroking himself, “touch me.”</p><p>“I don’t want to be Hinata,” Oma complains, “Can you imagine someone hotter?”</p><p>Komaeda’s wig is threatening to slip off his head. His black hair is peaking out. “Can you not pretend for 5 minutes?” </p><p>“Hinata is lame, why would you want to fuck him?” Oma diverts the question, leaning back in Shuichi’s computer chair, a rackety thing with parts of the vinyl ripped off on the seat.</p><p>“How is he lame? That arc was amazing. Becoming Kamakura, how he woke up the whole class from the simulation--” He starts, and fucking Christ, Kokichi has heard this same speech twenty times over.</p><p>“Yeah, I get it.” He cuts him off, and Shuichi looks up at him, cut out of his weird reviere. Whenever he starts talking about Danganronpa, he looks the same as when Kokichi’s fucking him, this glassy-eyed, stupid look on his face. </p><p>“Could you try, at least?” Shuichi says, his hands fiddling with the ragged hem of his t-shirt, “It’s something I’ve fantasized about.” His dick is still hard against his stomach, his pale skin almost translucent.</p><p>He wonders when he got this pathetic. He watches Shuichi slowly start jacking himself off again, his cheap wig looking shiny in the low light. The artificial hairs frizz and stick up in unruly spikes, a product of his attempt to style it. He wonders why his own cock is stirring in his jeans. He wonders why he keeps coming back when he knows it just leads to this.</p><p>“You’re so fucking weird.” Oma says, but then he’s moving from the chair to Shuichi’s bed.</p><p>Shuichi lights up, moving in to kiss him. He tastes like he actually remembered to brush his teeth today. Shuichi starts clumsily palming him through his jeans, long fingers feeling out the shape of his cock. </p><p>“I want you to fuck me, Hinata-kun.” Shuichi whispers into his ear. Oma tries not to flinch at the contact, looking at Shuichi’s face as he pulls away. He’s gone again, into his own fantasy world, where maybe he really is a Danganronpa character. </p><p>Oma pushes him down onto the bed, pinning his body to the mattress. He goes easily, lets himself be maneuvered like a doll. He wanted a reaction, anything other than that stupid look. </p><p>“Use me however you’d like.” Shuichi says. Oma says nothing. Practiced words, like Shuichi was reading off a script. Words he imagined one character would say to another. </p><p>He bites into the junction where his neck meets his shoulder, hard—too hard, and Shuichi gasps in pain, his body jerking. </p><p>“Why did you do that?” Shuichi says, and he’s really Shuichi now, dropping the act entirely. He rubs the spot on his neck and Kokochi can see the redness already blooming. He feels vindicated he could get a real response out of him. It’s boring, the Shuichi playing his stupid character.</p><p>“I want to play with Shuichi today,” he says. Shuichi opens his mouth and Oma can already hear his response in his head, something like: ‘<em>The me with cosplay on is still me, I’m not one of those weirdos who thinks they’re actually a Danganronpa character,’’</em> cue nervous laughter. He quickly amends, “without a cosplay on. I don’t ask for much, do I?” </p><p>Shuichi eyes him wearily. His dick is still half hard against his stomach.</p><p>“Why?” he finally says.</p><p>“Because I like it better when it’s you I’m talking down to, not the character you want to be.” Oma says, and Shuichi smiles meekly at that. It’s close enough to the truth. </p><p>“Alright.” Shuichi says, and he starts taking off the wig. His hair underneath is messy and slightly greasy, and he tries to style it down with his fingers. </p><p>“I want you to take all your clothes off.” Oma says, and he watches as Shuichi immediately listens, obedient like a trained dog. </p><p>He stands in front of him and strips off his jacket and his shirt, nervously watching Oma. His skin stretches taunt over his ribs, the bones poking through like mountains. He pauses for a second at his pants, fumbling with the button. </p><p>“Hurry up.” Oma complains, watching as Shuichi struggles to get the tight pants all the way off. </p><p>“I’m sorry, I’m useless.” he says, and his breath is picking up now that he's down to just his boxers.</p><p>“You are useless.” Oma says, pulling his underwear down quickly, no finesse in his movements. Shuichi makes a noise of surprise and his hands almost instinctively go to cover his dick. This is part of the game to him too, acting shy and embarrassed. He acts like this isn’t exactly what he wants, to be pushed around and handled without a care. The illusion of innocence, the illusion of being forcefully corrupted, a pink-cheeked wide-eyed demure JAV actress pretending to be a virgin. He wonders why he lets Shuichi play him so easily. </p><p>“Down, dog.” he sighs, spreading his legs. Shuichi almost trips over himself to get on his knees, folding long, bony legs under himself. He lets Shuichi play with him through his jeans, tracing the length of him and pumping up and down. Shuichi’s already breathing heavy in anticipation, his teeth worrying his bottom lip. </p><p>“Can I take it out?” he asks. </p><p>“You’re impatient,” Oma frowns, “Dogs don’t control their owners, stupid.” </p><p>But he’s weak, so he undoes the button on his jeans himself, pulling himself out of the top of his boxers. Shuichi kisses the head, taking him into his mouth. He can’t take it far but Kokichi can see his eagerness, his eyes fixed on Kokichi’s face, desperate to please. He threads his fingers in his hair, the suggestion he might press him deeper. Shuichi moans low in his throat and he can feel it around his cock. He pushes down with the grip in his hair, feeling the wet heat of his throat constrict around him as he chokes.</p><p>“It’s a lot,” Shuichi starts, pulling back and swallowing thickly, “when you’re in control.” He likes how easily he can power over him, even with their height difference, play fights always ending with Shuichi getting kicked or punched by scrappy limbs. </p><p>“It’s a lot, huh?” Kokichi mocks, “Maybe I should stop.”</p><p>“Don’t, please.” Shuichi answers immediately. </p><p>“Please, even?” Oma says, “What a good dog.”</p><p>Shuichi doesn’t meet his eyes, looking down in embarrassment. Kokichi leads his mouth back onto his dick with the grip on his hair, on the verge of being too harsh by the way Shuichi grimaces. </p><p>“Are you embarrassed?” Oma asks, eyes wandering over the flush on Shuichi’s cheeks and the reddening tips of his ears. Shuichi stays silent around the cock in his mouth, the wet heat of his mouth making Oma want to jerk his hips up. “Hey, answer when your owner talks!” He taps on the side of his face, feeling the bulge of his cock in his mouth. </p><p>Shuichi finally meets his eyes and shakes his head yes, his long eyelashes starting to stick together with tears from choking himself. </p><p>“Good job.” Oma praises, and he can’t help the feelings doing this with Shuichi gives him: this weird mix of wanting to give into all of Shuichi’s stupid fantasies, this pang on his heart as to why this can’t be permanent—why can’t Shuichi’s freak brain see him as more than just someone to fuck. The softness of his features, long lashes and dark eyes, desperate to please. A pretty face for the rot that lies underneath. He shoves Shuichi’s head down, the sound of Shuichi choking and his hands scrambling onto Kokichi’s knees, the warmth of his throat taking him to his balls. He doesn’t think about stupid shit like this and he doesn’t fall for anyone and he fucks without remorse.</p><p>Shuichi sits back and catches his breath, his chest heaving. His cock looks painfully hard against his stomach. He has spit sloppily on his chin and he wipes it away with the back of his wrist.</p><p>Monokuma’s voice cuts through the silence, a cheery, “It’s punishment time!” chirping from Shuichi’s computer. Kokichi’s heard it enough times to know it’s his stupid message tone. He shouldn’t look. </p><p>“free tonight ;) ?” is all it says. </p><p>“You’re a slut, Shuichi.” Oma snaps, watching Shuichi turn towards the monitor. He knows this is selfish--to feel this way, to feel like he has any ownership over Shuichi, like it matters who he fucks.</p><p>“I know.” he says, and his eyes are hazy, a stupid smile on his face.</p><p>“How many has it been this week?” Oma says, mouth moving before his brain can stop himself from saying it, “How many guys have you let fuck you?” </p><p>He can feel Shuichi start jacking himself off, his elbow lightly hitting his calf on the down stroke. “2.” he says. </p><p>“Did you know their names?” </p><p>Shuichi breath hitches, his hand going faster. “Their online names.” </p><p>Oma stays silent. The room is Shuichi’s moans and the faint sounds of his hand on his dick.</p><p>He comes and Oma watches his muscles flex, tries not to think about anyone else who's seen this same view. He fails miserably. Shuichi folds inward, his sweaty forehead pressed against Oma’s thigh. He stays until his breathing returns to normal, wipes his hand on the carpeted floor.</p>
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